THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SONGS 

of  a 

DREAM 


SONGS  OF  A  DREAM 

By 

ALFRED  JAMES  FRITCHEY 


Published  by 

A.  J.  FRITCHEY 

523  San  Julian  Street 

Los  Angeles 


Copyright  1922 
by  the 
Author 


610508 

UB8AB1 


CONTENTS 

1.  Songs  of  a  Dream. 

I.  The  Dream. 

II.  The  Treasure  Case. 

III.  The  Outer  Rim. 

IV.  The  Archangel. 
V.  Behind  the  Veil. 

VI.     The  New  Born. 

2.  Apple  and  Elm. 

3.  Titania. 

4.  Wild  Strawberries. 

5.  The  Fountain. 

6.  Aucassin  and  Nicolette. 

7.  At  Malaga. 

8.  Yacuta. 

9.  The  Fallen  Leaf. 

10.  Shatrunjaya  o'er  Tarawali  Dead. 

11.  The  Waterfall. 

12.  Quatrains. 

13.  The  Horned  Toad. 

14.  The  New  Arrival. 

15.  The  Golden  Land  of  Showers. 

16.  Hannah  White. 

17.  A  Morn  in  California. 


18.  The  House  of  the  Seven  Daughters. 

19.  Croesus'  Wish. 

20.  Each  Has  His  Way. 

21.  Love's  Domain. 

22.  Desolation's  Flower. 

23.  The  Elm. 

24.  The  Shy  Damsel. 

25.  The  Jonquils. 

26.  David  Barry. 

27.  Reminiscor. 

28.  The  Magical  Flute. 

29.  Youth's  Dream. 

30.  The  Hollyhocks. 

31.  The  Winds  of  Suisun. 

32.  Time. 

33.  Sardanapolis. 

34.  Karnak. 

35.  The  Season's  Metals. 

36.  Sainte  Chapelle. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


SONGS  OF  A  DREAM 

I 
The  Dream 

This  I  dreamed :  on  some  rose  lawn 
Song  I  made  a  far  land  sings ; 

Honeyed  as  the  lips  of  Dawn 

Singing  to  the  sea-harp's  strings. 

One  could  magically  change, 
And  how  often  followed  thro', 

Had  the  same  theme's  beauty  strange, 
Yet  had  words  forever  new. 

That  is  why  I  day  by  day 

Borrow  bud  and  flower's  gleam, 

Hoping  e'er  to  weave  a  lay 
Like  the  wonder  of  my  dream. 

II 

The  Treasure  Case 
In  some  hid  vale  I  saw  a  case 

Of  jewels  richly  set  and  bound; 
Fit  to  adorn  a  seraph's  face — 

Such  treasure  seldom  hath  been  found. 

Tipt  were  some  exquisite  with  fire 
Fit  for  the  highest  diadems ; 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


As  if  the  rainbow  did  aspire 
To  melt  her  colors  into  gems. 

And  some  were  rare  enamels  bright 

In  symbols  as  do  please  the  eyes, 
That  to  the  stricken  gave  delight; 

And  wisdom  could  give  to  the  wise. 

It  was  the  treasure  case — it  ran — 

Of  words  that  are  sublimely  kind, 
That  angels  use  to  talk  to  man, 

Which  mortals  hold  so  hard  to  find. 

m 

The  Outer  Kim 

The  lips  of  those  austere  with  exultation 

I  heard ; 
Who  stand  by  the  meek  fount  of  Inspiration, 

So  myrrhed 
With  sweetness,  the  heart  in  twin  pang's  elation 

Is  tearful  stirred. 

Those  august  ones  do  not  know  tears  however ; 

Their  hearts 
Are  turned  to  subtler  richness,  and  joy  never 

Departs 
Entirely,  tho'  a  sadness  marked  doth  sever 

What  Heaven  most  imparts. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


They  are  robed  in  such  grandeurs  that  the  air, 

In  meetness, 
Blooms,  feeling  Adoration's  lilies  there, 

And  Sweetness, 

They  know  such  joys   'twould  burst  our  hearts  to 
share 

Them  in  completeness. 

I  was  upon  the  outer  rim  alone, 

Of  grace ; 
And  yet  each  little  drop  like  eyed  prayers  shone, 

Clear  to  trace. 
Methought  as  I  grieved  for  my  sins,  that  one 

Drop  plashed  into  my  face. 

IV 

The  Archangel 

Now  the  archangel  hath  grace  rare, 

And  his  eyelids  shut  like  one 
Who  hath  heard  music  in  God's  chair 

Regent  for  Heaven's  sun. 
His  glances  have  such  splendor,  he 

Reads  a  life  at  a  look ; 
While  his  minute's  thought,  on  earth  would  be, 

A  million  worded  book. 


W SONG-S     OF     A     DREAM 

Robed  is  he  in  a  loveliness 

Of  vestments  all  afire. 
Whose  flame  is  weird  in  peerlessness 

Of  meet  august  attire. 
And  the  tones  of  his  voice  cadencing 

When  low  his  accents  fall, 
Are  melodies  that  light  and  sing 

In  worlds  innumerable. 


V 

Behind  the  Veil 

Behind  the  Veil  are  lovely  forms,  o'erflowing 
With  radiant  charm  death  has  so  well  refined ; 

Forms  fair  as  roses  in  their  prime,  rich-glowing, 
Alive  to  all  delights  of  sense  and  mind. 

Not  clothed  in  flesh,  but  in  flesh-like  perfection ; 

Raised  by  sublimity  from  mortal  throe ; 
Knowing  too  sadness  to  show  some  selection 

In  that  high  loveliness  they  most  do  know. 

Raised  till  the  mortal  touch  doth  seem  pollution ; 

For  'tis  repugnant  to  their  senses  fine. 
And  they  can  love,  from  woe  giv'n  full  ablution, 

Expanding  to  emotions,  rich,  divine. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 11 

VI 

The  New  Born  in  the  First  Heaven 
Nay,  turn  thine  eyes  away,  thou  peerless  one! 

For  I  am  not 

Fitted  for  it;  of  thine  high  company  none, 
But  full  of  sin  and  blot. 

Nay,  turn  thine  eyes  away  and  let  me  sit 

Down  by  the  least  and  lesser  be 
In  this  conclave  of  joy,  and  used  to  it 

Maybe  I  shall  grow  in  eternity. 


12 SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

APPLE  AND  ELM 

Now,  apple-blooms  curl  enviedly; 
And  many  lovers  have  they  too. 
For  weddings  they  most  charming  be ; 
They  do  adorn  nativity, 
With  all  life's  richness  slumb'ring  thro'. 

But  I  can  never  gaze  on  trees, 

Laden  with  the  elm's  spring  delight, 
The  pale-green  pledge  of  the  year  bright, 

But  in  a  realm  of  sudden  peace 
I  am,  that  outsplendors  daylight. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM  13 

TITANIA 

Sweet  Titania,  the  fair 

In  the  woods  slumbereth  there. 

A  tiar'  embossed  with  pearls 

Lies  by  her  unruly  curls. 

Like  the  tint  of  June-blue  skies, 

Folded  round  her  wrinkle-wise, 

Is  her  robe,  whereon  do  gleam 

Hyacinths  as  white  as  cream. 

There  are  rings,  whereon  are  set 

Ladybug  for  amulet, 

Glow-worm  and  fox-fire  too 

On  her  fingers  tapering  thro'. 

0,  the  stillness  of  her  sleep, 

As  the  butterflies  guard  keep, 

And  her  high-born  eyelids  tell 

Of  the  land  where  her  thoughts  dwell ! 


14  SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

WILD  STRAWBERRIES 

Upon  a  hill  where  shone  the  distant  bay 
We  gathered  berries  on  a  cloudless  day ; 
Strawberries  crimson,  of  so  sweet  a  flavor 
That  one  who  tasted  could  eat  on  forever ; 
Wild  and  unvisited,  save  who  their  stem 
Knoweth  in  season,  and  who  loveth  them; 
So  modest  set  amid  each  pale-green  stalk 
That  one  who  sought  them  not,  could  overwalk. 
And  such  is  poesy;  tho'  hid  it  lies 
Marvel  of  beauty  to  the  poet's  eyes; 
A  berry,  crimson,  of  so  sweet  a  flavor, 
That  whoso  tasteth  could  eat  on  forever. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 15 

THE  FOUNTAIN 

Dropping, 
Dropping, 
Dropping, 

In  its  lustrous  sheen 
The  fountain  of  the  onyx  fount 

Droppeth  o  'er  the  green ; 
And  each  drop  liquescent  falls  a  richer  colour  seen. 


Flying, 
Flying, 
Flying, 

Minutes  o'er  and  o'er, 
But  the  tumbling  water 
Droppeth  evermore; 
Like  a  poet's  fancy  pouring  from  its  crystal  store. 


Raining, 
Raining, 
Raining, 

With  its  iris  spray, 
The  jetting  water  curveth 

In  the  sunlight  gay, 

Like  the  bubbling  spring  of  Life  in  Youth's  early 
May. 


Iff SOXGS     OF     A     DREAM 

Laughing, 
Laughing, 
Laughing, 
In  its  glowing  hale 
Wealth  of  rushing  water 

Like  a  bridal  veil. 

And  its  drops  fall  like  the  laughter  under  moonlight 
pale. 

Blowing, 
Blowing, 
Blowing, 

As  the  wind  betide 
Bloweth  in  the  shade  or  sun 
Teardrops  full  of  pride ; 
And  the  voice  of  many  children  sounds  on  every  side. 

Ever, 
Ever, 
Ever, 

The  flowing  water  goes ; 
And  the  tumbling  water  falls 

Over  snow  and  rose : 
Till  I  feel  that  life  is  like  this  fount  without  a  close. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 17 

AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE 

Aucassin  and  Nicolette, 
Once  the  old  love-tale  I  took 
From  the  library  where   'twas  set 
(A  quaint  decorated  book, 
And  a  charming  tale  to  get — 
Aucassin  and  Nicolette!) 
And  to  the  librarian  old 
For  to  stamp  the  book  did  hold. 

Aucassin  and  Nicolette, 

How  she  smiles  this  book  to  get ! 

Murmuring  their  names  as  tho ' 

Honeyed  charm  did  with  them  go. 

You  and  I,  librarian,  now 

Are  neither  youth  nor  age  I  trow ; 

But  as  lovers  we  are  met 

O'er  Aucassin  and  Nicolette. 


18  SONGS     OF    A     DREAM 

AT  MALAGA 

Decked  with  the  luscious  fruit  of  purple  dye, 
At  Malaga  superb  the  vineyards  lie ; 
Color  congealed  the  grapes  are,  from  the  hills, 
And  all  the  air  a  purple  radiance  fills. 

Voices  of  maid  and  children  in  the  dale 
Blend  with  the  tranquil  notes  of  dove  and  quail. 
And  the  pomegranite  laughs  by  many  a  road, 
Proud  over  baskets  with  their  purple  load. 

The  air  is  as  a  purple  bird  that  flies 
Has  left  rich  trail — some  bird  of  paradise — 
Hinting  of  all  the  pomp  of  purple  things, 
Proud-passioned  love  and  bacchanals  of  kings. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM  19 

YACUTA 

Who  is  it  rides  a  white  horse  astride 
Down  the  long  lane  of  almond  bloom, 
In  crimson  and  gold  the  Calif  beside, 
When  all  earth  revels  in  spring's  perfume? 
Who  is  it  everyone's  eye  engages 
Who  sees  her  escort,  knowing  not  her? 
Who  but  the  charmingest  of  pages ! 
Who  but  Yacuta,  the  Calif's  daughter ! 

Who  is  it  set  up  a  fountain  fair 

That  when  she  pressed  a  bulb  did  spray 

The  Calif,  wetting  his  august  hair, 

And  making  him  change  his  grand  array? 

Who  is  it  makes  most  annoying  raids 

For  which  any  other  were  doomed  for  slaughter? 

Who  but  Yacuta,  dearest  of  maids ! 

Who  but  Yacuta,  the  Calif's  daughter! 

Who  is  it  the  Calif  loved  they  say 

So  well,  that  when  she  died  he  never 

Would  look  at  a  woman  for  many  a  day, 

Pining  in  grief  by  a  fountain  ever; 

Thinking  of  all  her  lovely  ways, 

Dainty  fragments  of  verse  he  taught  her? 

Who  but  the  darlingest  of  fays ! 

Who  but  Yacuta,  the  Calif's  daughter! 


20  SONGS     OF     A     ORE  AM 

Who  is  it  in  the  middle  air 
That  we  on  earth  do  know  as  Heaven, 
Down  flowered  colonnade  so  fair 
Rides,  sins  and  cruel  deeds  forgiven 
Because  of  one  great  love  he  bore 
By  Bagdad's  shining,  pearly  water, 
Now  with  that  sweet  maid  evermore ; 
Now  with  Yacuta,  the  Calif's  daughter? 
The  Calif ! 


THE  FALLEN  LEAF 

The  argent  revelries  of  spring  are  fled ; 
The  first  shy  splendor  of  the  snowdrop  pure, 
The  satin  gauze  wrapped  new-born  buds  secure, 

With  wistful,  silver  snows  have  vanished. 

And  that  great  argosy  into  the  dawn, 

Where  from  afar  was  brought  back  silver  fleece, 
To  glistening  dower  budding  plants  and  trees, 

Seems  like  some  silver  dream  of  poet  gone. 

Still  from  the  dawn  is  dipt  the  argent  wool ; 

Of  grander  argosies  the  subtle  proof — 
•  For  on  a  fallen  leaf  I  saw  its  woof, 
Silvered  with  beaded  drops  full  beautiful. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


SHATRUNJAYA  O'ER  TARAWALI  DEAD 

Like  a  gull  in  the  surf 
That  has  made  his  last  flight, 
Tired  of  sea  and  of  turf, 
My  heart  is  tonight ; 

It  will  soar  to  incomparable  depth,  but  no  more  to 
height. 

While  she  lies,  pale  and  calm, 
Where  she  stood  regal  fair ; 
And  winged  odors  embalm 
Her  curved  breast  and  fall'n  hair: 
But  the  hate  that  laid  her  there  has  turned  to  unut- 
terable despair. 

What  is  this  that  I  did 
With  the  noose  of  my  lute? 
Slain,  and  by  ire  bid, 
Toiling  years'  choicest  fruit, 

Which  the  howling  years  ne  'er  shall  re-make,  earth 's 
gardens  ever  be  mute ! 

0  the  lute  that  I  took 
From  the  home  of  my  sire, 
Whose  sweet  strings  have  struck 
Forth  such  sadness  and  fire, 

You  are  traitor,  for  one  of  your  strings  has  strangled 
mv  soul 's  one  desire  ! 


£2 SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

Tarawali,  the  rare, 

Peerless  of  her  kind, 

Whose  eyes,  lips  and  hair 

Were  a  lute  to  my  mind, 

Lies  shattered,  the  splendid  lute  mocked  by  the  wind. 

That  night  on  the  lake 
When  her  limbs  seemed  to  be 
Rose-flake  on  rose-flake, 
And  molded  to  me : — 

But  death  now  has  molded  her  into  love's  loveliest 
mockery. 

And  the  lotuses  there 
In  that  lake  by  the  wood 
Were  wont  to  greet  her 
As  their  human-grown  bud, 

Will  look  now  in  vain  for  her  carvel  to  pass  in  amor- 
ous mood. 

Ah,  gentleness  made 
Great  atone  for  her  wrong ; 
And  I  whom  pride  played, 
And  blind  rage  made  so  strong, 

Am  dumb  at  the  sight  of  the  melody  I  have  stilled 
long. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 23 

How  the  lies  that  they  said 
Now  on  me  fallen  are : 
And  her  grave,  queenly  head 
Seems  to  hold  that  great  star : 

While  her  silence  says  we  will  meet  never,  on  earth 
or  afar. 

And  the  sunsets  I  blest 
For  the  nectar  they  brought 
Will  long  stain  the  west 
And  ever  be  naught ; 

For  one  was  a  hangsman  who  noosed  my  soul  fear- 
fully caught. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


THE  WATERFALL 

0,  the  glorious  waterfall ! 

Plashing,  foaming  over  all, 
With  its  freshness  and  its  fullness  of  the  skies ; 

With  its  grandeur  pent  and  wild, 

Heaven-nurtured,  undefiled, 
How  its  dew  envelopes  all  with  pleasure's  eyes! 

How  it  comes  from  snows  and  glazes 

In  the  utmost,  secret  places ! 
How  it  filters  thro'  the  deep,  untainted  air! 

Till  it  sparkles  forth  at  last 

In  a  shower  falling  fast 
Over  flower,  fern  and  mosses,  bright  and  fair. 

And  if  I  a  winged  seed 

Were,  that  floated  o'er  the  mead, 
Seeking  where  to  find  what  pleasure  toppeth  all, 

I  would  drop  upon  thy  brink, 

Burst  and  flower,  just  to  drink 
Up  thy  freshness  and  thy  glory,  waterfall! 


SONGS     OF    A     DREAM  25 

QUATRAINS 
I 

The  Unknown 
Behold  an  angel,  large  and  drooping-winged, 

And  raven-clad  there  stood  within  my  room; 
And  cinders  dark  and  spiritual  there  fell : 

And  then  I  pressed  mine  eyes  but  felt  no  gloom. 

n 

Ambition  for  Power 
I  saw  a  saber,  long  and  sharp  and  thin, 

And  double-edged  and  handel  there  was  none ; 
And  none  could  hold,  nay  none  could  seize  the  blade 

Except  it  sorely  cut  the  seizing  one. 

in 


But  being  by  a  fisherman,  he  hooked 

A  shark,  and  tho'  all  day  he  fished  the  sea, 

Catching  naught  else,  he  took  the  shark  and  smiled. 
"Sharks  are  not  bad  to  eat"  said  he. 

IV 

Love 

Then  in  a  boundless  desert  I  beheld 

A  bloom  like  butterfly,  frail-winged  and  gay ; 

And  lo !  its  fragrance  filled  th '  entire  air ; 
But  when  I  stopped  to  pluck,  it  flew  away. 


SON  G-S     OF     A     DREAM 


V 

The  Common  Lot 

No  wonder  men  pretend  what  they  are  not, 
When  malice  e'er  sits,  croaking  like  a  toad! 

How  many  hide  their  sorrows,  smile  and  go 
Out  from  their  fellows  on  the  long,  dark  road. 

VI 

Happiness 
,It  was  a  land  where  bubbles  all  were  blown 

Out  of  the  perfume  of  the  rarest  flowers  ; 
And  each  was  imaged  with  the  dream  desired, 

But  strange,  the  bubbles  all  were  broke  by  showers. 

vn 

Inspiration 
Then  inspiration  touched  my  lips  and  I 

Was    'neath   a  fount   whose   drops   shone   in  the 

wind  ; 

And  all  the  eyed  drops  became  winged  darts 
That  went  forth  gloriously  among  mankind. 

VIII 
Hope 

But  we  will  not  forever  bubbles  blow 

And  have  them  broke  by  shower  and  by  wind; 

Somewhere  there  is  a  realm  of  light  and  mind 

Where  all  the  aspirations  of  the  heart  do  grow. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM  27 

IX 

Sylvan  Beauty 

Scarlet  the  light  is  on  the  oleander ; 

And  golden-flecked  the  streamlet  doth  meander; 

And  lilac  pollen-headed  are  the  fair 

Acacias  trembling  in  the  waters  there. 

X 

Dreamers 

Ah,  dreamers  they  are  happiest  on  earth, 
For  they  are  those  unmocked  by  life  or  birth ; 
Unmocked  by  time,  they  lose  one  dream,  and  still — 
They  dream — those  lotus-eaters  without  fill. 

XI 

Delight 

And  bathing  in  a  purple  pool,  the  spray 
Of  countless,  perfumed  jets  did  on  me  play ; 
And  every  jet  was  of  a  different  scent, 
As  when  one  smells  an  elegant  bouquet. 


28 8ONG-S     OF     A     DREAM 

THE  HORNED  TOAD 

In  the   California  lowlands,   far  from   the   Sierra's 

snowlands, 

In  the  valleys  dotted  with  the  fig  and  vine, 
Lives  an  odd  and  squatty  creature,  a   bizarre,  im- 
pressive feature 
Of  the  land  where  tropic  fruits  delight  to  shine. 

They  have  sung  his  praises  early,  for  he's  never  mean 

nor  surly, 

Tho '  he 's  full  of  spines  and  warts  and  is  a  toad, 
And  one  reason  he  is  happy,  is  the  weeds  are  large 

and  sappy, 
And  there  grow  a  million  weeds  by  every  road. 

0,  from  Siskiyou  to  Yuma,  of  the  plants  that  range 

and  bloom,  a 

Most  bewildering  variety  there  set  is ; 
And  of  all  that  radiant  flora,  bugs  and  slugs  that 

cut  and  bore  a 
Hole,  are  rogues  this  ranger  eats  up  like  a  lettuce. 


0,  the  snows  fall  oft  on  Shasta ! — and  when  Whitney 

feels  the  blast,  a 
Chain  of  snow-peaks  borders  California  fair; 


SONG-8     OF     A     DREAM 29 

And  the  fumes  are  thick  on  Lassen  from  volcanic 

cholers  passin', 

But  the  horned  toad  romps  his  lowlands  free  from 
care. 

They  can  revel  and  can  dally  in  Del  Key  or  Mexicali, 

Or  at  Capistrano  penance  for  some  sin ; 
But  what  men  in  light  or  shadow  do  in  Niles  or 

Coronado, 

Ne'er  disturbs  the  horned  toad  from  his  happy 
grin. 

They  can  drink  life 's  gayest  chalice  in  Del  Monte  or 

Dos  Palos, 

They  can  toil  at  Carmel  for  fame's  trophies  vain; 
But  on  mankind's  way  of  living,  the  horned  toad  no 

thought  is  giving 
In  his  tranquil,  California-verdent  plain. 


SO          SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

THE  NEW  ARRIVAL 

I  was  pageanted  with  glory  in  some  hollow  of  the 
hills ; 

Startled  with  a  high-born  wonder,  following  some 
brooklet 's  rills ; 

For  I  heard  a  great  rejoicing  like  from  some  ser- 
aphic band, 

And  I  wondered  if  I  was  at  home  or  in  some  alien 
land. 

O,  the  bluebird  sang  above  a  bed  which   poppies 

wrapped  in  gold ; 
And  the  lilacs  sent  mauve  taper  flames  to  wake  the 

brooklet  cold ; 
And  the  buckeye  lit  a  thousand  candles  of  a  crimson 

hue : 
O,  it  was  the  birth  of  springtime,  but  I  did  not  know 

'twas  due. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM si 

THE  GOLDEN  LAND  OF  SHOWERS 

When  showers  have  made  grasses  green 

In  spring, 
And  in  the  west  white  clouds  are  seen 

Boiling, 

And  sunset's  lovely  tints  so  fair, 
Upon  the  clouds  so  debonaire. 
Made  angel  figures  shining  there 

Showing ! 

How  very  pleasant  o'er  the  grass 

Peeping, 
It  is  to  see  the  pageants  pass 

Singing ; 

High  over  on  the  clouds  so  fair 
The  angels  bright  and  debonaire, 
And  some  but  babies  over  there 

Dancing ! 

0  come  and  see  the  festivals 

Chanting, 
That  may  be  seen  in  Heaven's  halls 

Glowing, 

When  swept  by  showers  the  skies  appear! 
Bright  forms  celestial  and  dear, 
And  star-eyed  all,  to  earth  so  near 

Treading ! 


32 SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

And  I  have  thought  since  childhood  I, 

Gazing, 
Might  some  day  some  loved  form  espy 

Walking ; 

But  tho'  the  many  forms  so  bright 
Go  by  in  robes  full  exquisite, 
Not  yet  one  known  has  caught  my  sight 

Passing. 


BONGS     OF     A     ORE  AM  S3 

HANNAH  WHITE 

There's  a  new  note  in  the  spring, 

Hannah  White, 
Since  I  saw  you  first,  blushing 

Hannah  White ; 
But  there's  too  a  note  of  grief, 
Culling  like  a  winged  thief 
Prom  each  fairest  budding  leaf, 

Hannah  White. 

0,  what  rapture  and  what  joy, 

Hannah  White, 
When  I  first  beheld  you,  coy 

Hannah  White ! 
But  you  give  no  more  to  me, 
But  averted  looks  that  be 
Careless  of  my  constancy, 

Hannah  White. 

Have  I  hurt  or  done  you  wrong, 

Hannah  White? 
That  the  spring's  enchanting  song, 

Hannah  White, 

Seems  no  more  so  gay  and  fond 
Toucht  by  some  magician's  wand? 
Will  your  eyes  no  more  respond, 

Hannah  White? 


54 80XG8     OF     A     DREAM 

A  MORN  IN  CALIFORNIA 

At  dawn  I  heard  the  flight  of  birds 

Across  the  sky,  faint-flushed  with  light ; 

A  melody  of  hurried  words 

They  seemed  to  me  in  their  swift  flight. 

Drowsy  with  slumber  out  I  gazed 

And  saw  flamed  oleanders  there; 
While  Spring,  the  blithe,  with  beauty  graced 

The  gardens  far  as  eye  could  fare. 

The  languor  of  delicious  rest 

Was  on  me  like  a  perfume  dim : 
I  felt  like  some  gnat  in  the  nest 

f  some  rose  curled  to  cradle  him. 


SONG-S  OF  A  DREAM  35 

THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SEVEN  DAUGHTERS 

In  the  House  of  the  Seven  Daughters 
Their  sandals  are  golden  I  trow, 
And  their  kirtles  are  finely  embroidered 
With  tulip's  and  poppy's  rich  glow; 
Their  goblets  are  chaste  and  enameled ; 
Their  basins  are  silver  I  guess ; 
But  there  isn't  a  maid  of  the  seven 
Surpasses  my  maid  of  one  dress. 

In  the  House  of  the  Seven  Daughters 
They  move  with  much  grace  I  am  told; 
And  their  earrings  and  silk-netted  hair-veils 
Are  wrought  of  lace,  seed-pearls  and  gold. 
Their  features  are  splendidly  molded; 
Their  voices  are  sweet  as  a  bell; 
But  there  isn't  a  maid  of  the  seven 
Compares  with  my  maid  of  the  well. 

In  the  House  of  the  Seven  Daughters 
They  pass  with  the  steps  of  a  faun ; 
And  the  worker  who  sculptures  in  marble 
Their  figures  has  exquisite  drawn. 
But  there  isn't  on  frieze  or  on  cornice, 
In  Athens  or  anywhere  known, 
Gold-sandaled  or  sandaled  with  jewels 
Like  the  bare-footed  lassie  I  own. 


S6  SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

CROESUS'  WISH 

Cover  my  couch  with  maple  leaves, 

In  scarlet  and  in  yellow  sheen ; 
Simplicity's  most  gentle  weaves 

Let  my  last  couch  be  seen. 
Tear  from  my  quilt  the  golden  fringe ; 

The  seeded  pearls  strow  them  elsewhere  ; 
There  will  be  none  then  come  to  cringe 

When  I  lie  silent,  paupered  there. 

I  who  in  life  was  tricked  by  show; 

Passed  out  life 's  blossom  for  a  gem ; 
In  purple  splendors  lived  aglow ; 

And  rich  with  rubied  diadem ; 
Desire  no  false  honors  spread 

When  silent  is  the  breast  now  heaves. 
Envied  alive,  unenvied  dead, 

Cover  my  couch  with  maple  leaves ! 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 37 

EACH  HAS  HIS  WAY 

Some  like  the  hail  and  the  showers, 

The  storm  and  the  tempest 's  dark  strife ; 
Some  like  the  sun  and  the  flowers, 
A  cot  and  a  calm  shepherd's  life. 
O,  each  has  his  way, 
Be  it  what  it  may : 
Some  will  be  grave  and  some  will  be  gay. 

Some  like  the  ocean's  vast  play-ground, 

The  free  and  the  boundless,  and  frown 
That  some  a  cell  in  some  byway  ground 

Like,  where  there's  scarce  room  to  kneel  down. 
0,  each  has  his  way, 
Be  it  what  it  may : 
Some  will  be  grave  and  some  will  be  gay. 

Some  like  the  heavens  and  soar  there ; 

Light 's  glories  and  all  there  might  be ; 
And  some  like  the  earth,  and  adore  there 
All  things  that  are  flesh  and  earthly. 
0  ,each  has  his  way, 
Be  it  what  it  may : 
Some  will  be  grave  and  some  will  be  gay. 


38  SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

LOVE'S  DOMAIN 

Thro'  mustard  that  yellowed  the  hill, 

'Neath  cloudlets  so  fleecy  and  white, 
We  wandered  as  fond  lovers  will, 

Till  we  came  to  a  tree  on  the  height. 
Ah  me,  love 's  domain  is  a  world ! 

When  from  the  hill's  crown  'tis  espied 
O'er  a  hamlet  so  peacefully  curled. 

Ah  me,  love 's  domain  is  full  wide ! 

Since  then  I  have  wandered  o  'er  seas ; 

Have  climbed  over  bleak  mountains  high ; 
Have  trod  in  strange  lands ;  none  of  these 

Have  had  what  I  fain  would  espy. 
Ah  me,  love's  domain  tho'  a  world 

Must  be  in  a  realm  long  espied, 
In  a  hamlet  so  peacefully  curled 

Where  the  mustard  blows  o'er  the  hill-side. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 39 

DESOLATION'S  FLOWER 

Here  on  the  beach  where  frets  the  flowing  surf 
I  found  a  poem  of  an  antique  mold, 
Which  nature  made  in  some  fantastic  mood 

And  buried  'neath  a  million  years  of  turf: 

Starred  like  the  bloom  that  mystic  marshes  hold, 
Where  desolation  reigns,  and  solitude 

Howls  in  a  silence  to  a  dead  moon  stark. 

This  tablet  has  the  rippling  ages  mark! 
It  is  a  shell-fish  of  an  age  overthrown: 
A  conscious  something  turned  into  a  stone. 


SONGS     OF    A     DREAM 


THE  ELM 

There  is  no  tree 
So  blossomy 

In  the  whole  realm  of  treedom 
As  the  elm  is  he. 

Against  the  sky 
On  his  branches  high 
How  the  pale  green  bouquets 
Seize  the  eye ! 

In  the  radiant  air, 
On  the  branches  bare, 
Of  the  stately  tree  shine 
Seed-wings  fair. 

As  if  there  dropt 
From  the  rain  just  stopt, 
A  subtle  influence  the 
Bare  boughs  topt : 

That  spiritually 
Drew  forth  from  the  tree, 
The  soul  to  shine  there 
Celestially. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM  41 

THE  SHY  DAMSEL 

He  will  speak  no  more  to  me,  mother, 

He  will  speak  no  more  I  know, 
For  I  answered  his  question  rude,  mother, 

Being  then  frightened  so. 
Being  filled  with  such  melody,  mother, 

That  all  my  words  came  dim ; 
He  will  speak  no  more  to  me,  mother, 

And  I  cannot  speak  to  him. 

He  will  speak  no  more  to  me,  mother, 

And  the  days  will  very  long  be : 
And  to  think  how  I  waited,  mother, 

For  the  day  he  would  speak  to  me. 
But  I  was  so  frightened,  mother, 

I  answered  his  question  cold ; 
And  I  cannot  speak  to  him,  mother, 

For  that  would  be  too  bold. 

He  will  speak  no  more  to  me,  mother, 

And  now  that  careless  girl 
Who  has  not  my  shyness,  mother, 

Will  set  his  head  in  a  whirl ! 
And  maybe  will  marry  him,  mother, 

And  my  heart  it  will  bleed  sore. 
I  might  have  known  him,  mother ; 

He  will  speak  to  me  no  more. 


42  SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

THE  JONQUILS 

The  jonquils  spring 
By  stream  meandering, 

So  fair 
They  seem  like  topazes  blown  there. 

So  fair  they  shine 
Mellower  than  rare  wine, 

They  seem 
To  have  quaffed  some  celestial  beam. 

And  should  one  come 
Sudden  upon  their  bloom, 

Right  here 
In  the  spear-grass  glittering  mere. 

He  would  not  know 
If  topazes  did  grow, 

Or  bloom 
From  heaven  o  'erflowing  down  did  come. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


DAVID  BARRY 

David  Barry,  how's  the  fishing  over  there  on  Gut 

Creek  now? 
How's  the  trail  that  hugs  the  Swaybaek,  leading  up 

to  Lookout's  brow? 
How's  the  salmon  flies  for  fishing  that  I  hunted  and 

you  gave? 
Also,  how's  your  sister,  Dave? 


David  Barry,  how's  the  hunting  now  for  squirrels 

and  for  jacks? 
Have  you  seen  a  deer  or  any  bear  or  mountain  lion 

tracks  ? 
Have  you  caught  a  chipmunk  or  that  gray  fox — such 

a  cunning  knave — 
Also,  how's  your  sister,  Dave? 


David  Barry,  how's  the  swimming  down  at  Mussel 

Rock  where  we 
Ducked  each  other  just  last  summer  in  the  white 

surf  of  the  sea? 
Have  you  stubbed  your  toes  there  lately  on  the  rocks 

beneath  the  wave? 
Also,  how's  your  sister,  Dave? 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


REMINISCOR 

0  wondrous  flower  in  the  prime  of  bloom, 
What  visions  of  Love's  woodland  thou  recallst! 
Thy  perfect  blending  of  a  matchless  theme 

So  beautiful  in  life,  seems  like  the  first 

Soft  blush  of  love  to  maiden's  cheek.    Perhaps 

Thy  sprout  lay  bursting  from  the  seed,  that  day 

Now  long  agone,  when  one  I  cherished  most 

Had  led  me  thro'  the  forest's  tangled  maze. 

The  sturdy  Oaks  were  wondrous  living  souls 

So  gently  breathing  from  a  myriad  leaves, 

And  clinging  fraily,  like  a  tender  wife, 

The  graceful  Ivy  twined  their  rugged  forms. 

So  under  Nature's  canopy  the  Moss 

And  Ferns  and  delicate  Hypaticas 

Were  brothers  nearer  than  the  race  of  Man 

How  happy  too  was  I  on  that  fond  day ! 

How  like  the  music  of  the  birds  his  voice 

To  me !    And  how  within  my  feelings  surged 

With  gladsome  tide  too  great  for  utterance ! 

That  same  dear  Heart  sleeps  now  beneath  the  bush 

That  bore  this  flow'r.    Myself  I  placed  it  there. 

Dug  from  our  wood  of  Love's  sweet  memory. 

And  from  this  bed  of  weariness,  which  I 

Can  never  hope  to  leave,  with  buttercups 

1  see  the  Meadow  gild  his  resting-place. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 45 

0  wondrous  flower  in  the  prime  of  bloom, 
How  beautiful  is  Life  !    How  sad  is  Death ! 


THE  MAGICAL  FLUTE 

I  sat  by  the  ocean  shore 
And  I  heard  the  soft  tones  of  a  flute, 
0,  the  magical  tones  of  a  flute ! 
Coming  up  from  the  ocean  and  o'er, 
As  if  one  that  long  had  been  mute 
Was  blowing  his  ecstacy  through 't. 

It  came  from  the  depth  of  the  sea, 
And  then  it  danced  over  the  land, 
Dancing  close  to  where  I  was  on  land, 
So  elfish  and  musically, 
That  I  wondered  if  witched  was  the  sand ; 
Yet  I  heard  not  a  foot-beat  or  hand. 

But  the  penguins  came  in  from  the  sea 

And  they  gathered  in  circle  around, 

Yes,  the  magical  flute  quite  around, 

And  they  danced  to  its  rhymical  glee 

As  if  each  a  lost  mate  had  found, 

Till  their  blithesomeiiess  covered  the  ground. 


46 SONG  8     OF     A     DREAM 

They  danced  till  the  sun  was  quite  low 
And  the  flute  with  a  sharp  break  was  still, 
0,  a  piercing  sharp  break  ere  'twas  still, 
And  the  penguins  stopped  dancing  as  though 
Life  broke  at  the  flute 's  magic  will ; 
Oh,  they  never  their  dream  would  fulfill. 

And  the  magical  flute, 

I  am  wondering  who  blew 't ; 

For  over  the  sea  and  the  land 

The  penguins  are  roving 

So  solemn,  unloving, 

There's  no  more  of  joy  in  their  band. 

For  never  in  life, 

Though  Ive  oft  heard  a  fife 

And  many  a  reed  and  a  lute, 

Have  I  heard  notes  by  chance 

That  could  make  penguins  dance 

Like  the  tones  of  that  magical  flute. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM    £7 

YOUTH'S  DREAM 

There  are  many  lovely  maidens, 
And  I  note  them  as  they  go ; 
Dark-fringed  are  some  their  lashes, 
And  some  are  gold  I  know. 
I  sometimes  think  their  flesh  is 
Finer  than  in  man  spun: 
There  are  many  lovely  maidens, 
But  I  have  none. 

There  are  many  lovely  maidens 

I  would  walk  with  thro '  woods ; 

And  some  have  breasts  like  pretty  pears, 

Some  like  magnolia  buds. 

They  do  not  know  their  tones  to  me 

Like  cherub  notes  do  run. 

There  are  many  lovely  maidens 

But  I  have  none. 

There  are  many  lovely  maidens 
Whom  grace  and  charm  allot 
To  raise  above  the  mortal  plane 
Altho'  they  know  it  not. 
I  sigh,  and  gaze  upon  them, 
Thinking  each  that  perfect  one. 
There  are  many  lovely  maidens 
But  I  have  none. 


48 SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

THE  HOLLYHOCKS 

All  the  hollyhocks  I  know 

As  I  walk  my  garden  thro', 

And  I  like  them  too,  altho' 
They  are  but  a  family  new. 

They  are  simple-minded,  yes, 
And  they  have  no  pedigree ; 

But  they  have  a  knack  of  dress 
That  has  quite  a  charm  for  me. 

Their  grandfather  was  a  clown 

To  the  tulips  long  ago ; 
But  they  try  to  live  it  down, 

And  I  like  them,  I  allow. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 49 

THE  WINDS  OF  SUISUN 

The  west  wind  blows,  and  blissful  seas 

Are  in  the  salt  tang  of  its  breeze. 

It  has  the  savor  of  the  deep : 

Of  rich,  warm,  splendid  isles  asleep 

With  bloom  exotic,  and  the  calm 

Of  purple  seas  that  lave  the  palm. 

The  north  wind  blows,  and  in  its  breeze 
There  is  the  hint  of  wrathful  seas ; 
Of  bleak  expanses  where  the  shore 
Is  icy-rimed  and  glaciers  pour 
Down  slow  crevasses  to  the  sea, 
While  whiteness  ruleth  regally. 

The  east  wind  blows,  and  all  the  air 
Is  tinged  with  blossomed  plum  and  pear, 
The  first  blooms  of  the  hillside  too 
Add  fragrance,  with  scents  ever  new, 
Until  this  breeze  is  like  the  scent 
Of  some  rare  box  of  enchantment. 

The  south  wind  blows,  and  lolling  in 
Bays  of  rolling  tourmaline 
The  fancies  are,  where  mountains  run 
Gold-mottled  to  a  golden  sun; 
While  precious  pearls  the  divers  glean 
Out  of  the  depths  ultramarine. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


TIME 

Time  he   mellows   all  things,   yea, 
Greater-hearted  than  To-day, 
Shallow,  caustic  never  he 
Is  as  Now  strives  oft  to  be. 
He  hath  gentleness  and  vision 
As  have  those  in  fields  Elysian. 
Nothing  will  be  lost  that  e'er 
Doth  a  hidden  worth  enfold; 
Time  he  hath  a  realm  of  gold 
Where  he  holdeth  all  things  fair. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 51 

SARDANAPOLIS 

Sarndanapolis,  the  monarch, 

In  his  canopy  of  state 
Sits.    His  brow  is  stern  and  awful ; 

And  his  wives  in  terror  great 
Crouch  upon  the  marble  stairways 

Robed  as  for  a  scene  of  mirth. 
Sardanapolis,  the  mighty, 

Holds  his  last  great  court  on  earth. 

Locked  are  all  the  doors  and  guarded; 

None  may  enter,  none  may  leave; 
And  an  air  of  tragic  beauty 

Haunts  the  place  from  floor  to  eave. 
For  the  fatal  torch  is  lighted 

And  the  fatal  words  are  said 
Sardanapolis,  the  splendid, 

Goes  a  king  forth  to  the  dead. 

But  the  king  whose  choice  is  daring, 

And  whose  word  rules  like  a  sword, 
Had  a  rival  in  the  palace 

When  the  gaunt  flames  leapt  and  roared. 
And  the  women  who  had  feared  him, 

Fearing  now  the  flame  far  more, 
Ran  and  pounded  on  the  portals, 

Wailed  upon  the  polished  floor. 


52 SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

Only  so  the  other  women, 

For  a  stately  one  there  was 
Who  endured  the  coming  torture 

As  if  some  grand  fete  should  pass, 
Circled  by  her  clinging  children, 

In  dark  loveliness  serene. 
Sardanapolis,  the  monarch, 

Knew  then  who  was  truly  queen. 

Flashing  in  the  hall  a  fountain 

Placid  stood  before  the  throne, 
Carved  of  tiger-banded  agate, 

And  like  dripping  ice  it  shone. 
While  each  jet  a  perfume  spouted 

Out  a  veil  which  color  marks 
Like  a  fragile  ring  of  water 

Of  a  dozen,  different  arcs. 

In  this  great  curved  marble  basin 

AVith  its  cooling,  perfumed  rain, 
Petted  darlings  of  the  palace 

Crowded  to  escape  the  pain 
Of  the  blue  caressing  flame-tongues, 

To  be  crowded  out  in  turn 
Till  they  sprawled  on  floor  and  basin 

Like  Dore's  great  Bacchic  urn. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 53 

Gorgeous,  glittering,  terrifying, 

Was  the  funeral  pyre  of  him 
Whose  word  had  might's  seal  of  power 

In  receding  ages  dim; 
For  Assyria's  pride  could  never  . 

See  her  dynasty  o'erthrown, 
So  the  flame  wiped  out  the  stigma 

In  her  halls  of  polished  stone. 

And  the  conqueror  who  entered 

That  great  city  and  first  came 
Where  Assyria's  royal  family 

Passed  out  in  their  robes  of  flame, 
Found  like  spring-bud  peeping  out  from 

Sere  leaves  of  the  Autumn's  fall 
One  stray,  lovely,  living  maiden 

In  the  center  of  it  all. 


54 SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 

KARNAK 

In  Karnak,  when  Karnak  was  young 

And  her  halls  were  fresh-carven  from  stone, 
When  her  temples  were  famously  sung, 

And  the  names  of  her  builders  were  known, 
There  were  two  for  the  hand  of  a  maid, 

Who  was  weaver  of  robes  for  the  state; 
The  one  was  a  sculptor  renowned, 

The  other  the  guard  at  the  gate. 

The  sculptor  to  Pharaoh  had  ear 

And  he  said :  ' '  Sire,  the  work  of  my  hands 
Is  yours  and  all  tribute  they  bring ; 

Your  fame  has  gone  forth  to  all  lands. 
I  asked  no  reward  as  you  know; 

I  ask  now  a  boon  small  but  great; 
I  crave  neither  riches  nor  show 

But  the  maiden  who  weaves  for  the  state." 

"I'll  talk,"  Pharaoh  said,  "with  the  maid, 

And  tell  you  what  actions  befall. 
I  am  lord  of  the  lives  of  my  men, 

Of  the  hearts  of  my  maids,  not  at  all. 
I  can  order  and  it  is  obeyed ; 

She  will  go  forth  a  bride  at  my  voice. 
But  experience  has  proven  that  brides, 

Unless  royal,  should  have  some  slight  choice." 


SONGS     OF    A    DREAM 


1 '  May  it  please  you, ' '  the  sculptor  exclaimed, 

"If  you  win  her,  a  statue  I'll  dare 
Of  her  with  the  grace  of  a  fawn, 

And  like  to  a  lotus-bud  rare ; 
A  statue  that  long  shall  rebound 

To  your  reign  and  the  glory  thereof. 
For  there  is  yet  no  power  in  art 

Can  carve  like  the  fingers  of  love." 

So  Pharaoh  the  maid  brought  and  told 

The  mission  entrusted  and  said : 
' '  I,  Pharaoh  will  add  riches  too : 

You  will  do  well  the  sculptor  to  wed." 
The  maid  replied :  ' '  Sire,  I  love  one, 

And  I  bow  to  you,  lord  of  the  state, 
But  I  cannot  be  happy  save  with 

Him  only  who  guards  at  the  gate." 

The  guard  Pharaoh  called  then  alone 

And  told  what  the  sculptor  would  do 
If  he  won  the  maiden,  "Now  guard, 

If  you  win,  what  give  me  will  you. 
"Sire,  said  the  guard,  statues,  I've  none; 

But  if  maidens  you  deem  of  aught  worth, 
I  '11  bring,  if  you  wait  some  slight  time, 

A  maiden  the  fairest  on  earth." 


56 SONG-S     OF     A     DREAM 

"Go  wed,"  ordered  Pharaoh,  "you  wish. 

My  steward  will  grant  your  needs  now. 
But  see  that  you  do  as  you  say; 

I  hold  it  to  you  as  a  vow. 
Go  wed  her  and  take  her  away." 

He  then  called  the  sculptor,  and  said : 
"You  must  wait,  sculptor,  some  future  day. 

There  is  plenty  of  time  yet  to  wed." 

The  years  they  have  passed  nigh  a  score, 

And  Pharaoh  sees  naught  of  reward. 
And  oft  he  laughed  slyly  thereat, 

To  think  he  was  tricked  by  a  guard. 
But  grandly  his  own  statues  loomed; 

And  he  said :  ' '  'Tis  a  joke  to  the  throne 
That  lustre  could  come  to  my  reign 

By  a  maiden  of  flesh  or  of  stone." 

The  sculptor  thought  oft  of  the  maid ; 

His  hands  were  astute  to  his  heart; 
And  his  work  a  famed  beauty  displayed, 

So  that  Pharaoh  praised  often  his  art. 
But  one  day  the  guard  has  returned, 

And  with  him  one  peerless  to  see ; 
And  he  said :  ' '  Sire,  my  daughter  behold ! 

Has  love  sculptured  other  like  she?" 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 57 

Called  Pharaoh  the  sculptor  who  came, 

And  gazed  on  that  maiden  of  grace. 
The  sculptor  though  hoary  and  bent 

Hailed  the  maid  as  the  pride  of  her  race. 
And  he  fashioned  a  statue  of  her 

That  stood  a  delight  to  gray  Time 
To  show  what  the  maidens  were  like 

When  Karnak  was  still  in  her  prime. 

Ah,  ruin  now  Karnak  befalls ! 

Her  temples  are  rifled  and  gone! 
The  raven  flies  over  her  halls ! 

The  Nile  laps  the  base  of  her  stone ! 
But  still  from  her  columns,  vine-caught, 

A  shy,  virginal  beauty  peeps  forth, 
As  of  lover  and  artist  who  wrought 

To  make  one  immortal  on  earth. 


SONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


THE  SEASON'S  METALS 

The  heart  of  Spring  is  silver. 
The  heart  of  Summer  is  gold. 
The  heart  of  Autumn  is  copper. 
The  heart  of  Winter  is  steel. 


BONGS     OF     A     DREAM 


SAINTE  CHAPPELLE 

In  Sainte  Chapelle,  my  lovely  one, 
I  stood  with  reverent  heart  and  eye: 

The  light  fell  from  art's  magic  sun; 
The  centuries  passed  in  gorgeous  dye. 

The  love,  the  hope,  the  long  refrain, 

The  travail  of  the  centuries, 
Was  pictured  there,  in  glowing  pane 

That  threw  its  light  to  charm  and  please. 

The  moons  since  then  in  robes  so  fair, 
A  ghostly  band,  have  passed  pell-mell. 

Thy  memory  shall  go  with  me  e'er 
As  that  grand  hall  of  Sainte  Chapelle ! 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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This  bcbk  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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'orm  L9-42n»-8,'49(B5573)444 


1109  2938 


3511         Songs  of  a 


PS 

3511 


